Football Sunday!
Or as I usually saw it, an opportunity for Evan to lounge around for seven hours in his pajamas, drinking beer. But this particular Sunday had some added attractions.
Three of Evan's executive team from work had accepted an offer to watch the games together at our house. Sort of a bonding experience for Neanderthals. Evan asked me to just help out in the hostess department and deliver snacks and more beer.
Now I readily agreed to help out but this was a lot of cock for one girl to pass up in the name of hospitality. I decided, however, that I should make a good impression. He was a brand spanking new VP after all.
Evan asked me to make them comfortable and I thought looking good was an important first step in my comfort presentation. Tight, lightweight, low cut, powder blue sweater. Short black skirt. White lace thigh highs. Heels. This would be my initial look and I could make adjustments as necessary. It would be like a fall runway show and I dubbed it, Subtly Slutty.
I decided the boys wouldn't mind occasionally having something nice to look at after all the controlled blood, guts and testosterone on the TV. Personally, during a game I couldn't tell the difference between the game and when an actual fight broke out.
I gave a thought to putting on the old cheerleader outfit but it just seemed so obvious. Some of the actual pro team cheerleaders were really hot but the camera shots were so brief what was the point? There must be a cheerleader channel.
When Evan watched me getting dressed he said, "I wonder, with you in the room, if any of the guys will even notice if the TV's on or off."
"Do you mind if I look sexy good for them? It's your thing."
He put his arms around me, "Mind? I love it. I want you to have fun too. You know how much I get off on men looking you over."
"Yes, I've noticed."
It was nearly noon and the guys would be arriving for the pregame show. We had all the finger food laid out and the glassware lined up so there was nothing left to do except plot my entrance. We both realized that I'd never been to Evan's office so, other than Mr. Johnson, no one knew what I looked like.
I stayed upstairs pretending to do some last minute primping until Evan greeted the last guy and then I heard him say, "Make yourselves at home, my wife will be down in a minute."
I counted to ten and came down the staircase in the slinkiest way possible. "Hi guys," I cooed about halfway down. One of them murmured but caught himself, "Holy shi..." It was a theatrical but effective entrance.
"This is my wife, Chrissy," they all stood up in a receiving line. "Chrissy, this is Andrew, Phillip and Terry."
To introduce my backside I sashayed out to the kitchen to get an imaginary something. It was hard to hear their comments over the TV cacophony but I heard one of them say, "Your wife, wow." For most of it I'd have to rely on Evan's memory later.
It was Terry who came out to the kitchen, "Evan asked for the blue and white tray for the chip dip." I started to complain about his laziness when it dawned on me what he was doing.
The tray was on the top shelf of the cupboard but I would have to reach way up for it. I got a step stool and asked Terry if he would hold me so I didn't fall. While he stood behind me holding my waist I struggled to get it down. I could feel my skirt inch up, offering a glimpse of my white panties. There was no way he missed that eye level show.
"I've got you, go slow," he said, holding on to me. I looked down at him and he had that Cheshire Cat grin that Evan got when he was really enjoying himself. He was staring at my ass and legs.
When I finally got ahold of the tray he helped me down. I pretended to lose my footing on the last step and he caught me and we were suddenly nose to nose, his arms around me.
"Sorry, Terry, I'm so clumsy."
"Believe me," he said smiling, "it's a happy accident."
"Maybe it won't be the last happy accident," I said, letting the obvious flirtation dangle there.
Into the living room I asked Evan where he wanted the tray. "Oh, just set it over there on the table," and he winked at me. Evan's deviousness was truly remarkable.
Evan sat on the left of the TV, our guests sat on the big sofa in the middle and I sat on the right, partially facing the guys. That way their sight line covered the TV AND my legs. Now I know you're thinking, what an attention whore, but hey, everybody's got their own brand of self satisfaction. I take complete ownership.
The boys split their time between watching the game and me. I would do little flirty things, adjusting my skirt, running my hand down my leg, tossing my hair back. I was having so much fun watching their pant pup tent poles slowly erect.
At the end of the first quarter, Evan asked Andrew about a particular pass interference call and Andrew didn't remember it.
"What's wrong with you, buddy? Aren't you paying attention?" teased Evan.
"I'm trying to," he said, almost distressed.
Evan and I exchanged knowing looks.
I went upstairs, removed the sweater, offed the bra and put on a mock football jersey shirt with a completely nude midriff. The only thing holding that shirt to attention were my perky tits.
Can I get anyone anything from the kitchen, beer, more chips?" I asked.
Andrew jumped up, "I'd be glad to help!"
"Sure, follow me." Again I enhanced his rear view.
I took down a bottle of wine and complained, "I always have a hard time opening these bottles." As i say this I'm stroking the bottleneck ever so subtly. "Would you mind? Maybe you can pop my cork." The last double entendre was definitely not subtle and as he took the bottle I inadvertently/intentionally brushed against the front of his trousers, grazing his burgeoning hard-on.
He moved along as if nothing happened but the look on his face said otherwise.
Evan from the living room, "Andrew, you're missing the game!"
"I'm coming!" he responded.
"I wish," I said, barely loud enough for him to hear it. I leaned back against the counter, crossed my legs and lifted one side of the jersey, showing him my breast.
He now looked at me like I was legitimately on the menu. "What about your husband?"
"He likes it when other men play with me...you want to don't you?"
"Hell yes but I don't want to lose my job."
I called out, "Evan, can you come in here?"
Andrew was frantic, "What are you doing?!?"
Evan waltzed in, happy as usual, "What's up, wifey of mine?"
"I graciously invited our guest to take advantage of me but he's all worried that you'll have him fired if he does."
Andrew was scrambling around, "Excuse me, it's just a mistake. I didn't mean..."
"What is this, Andrew? My Chrissy's not good enough for you to fuck?"
Clearly the confusion was getting the best of Andrew's brain, "No, no, no, she's gorgeous..."
"Then drop your pants and fuck the little slut. She'll, be happy and that makes me happy."
Evan left the room and a still confused but liberated, Andrew, lifted my shirt off and unbuckled his pants. "I have no idea what's going on but you're fucking hot, Chrissy." He unzipped my skirt, put my back on the kitchen table and drilled my wet 'n ready pussy.
I can only imagine what it sounded like out in the living room but the table rattled each time he hit me. He sucked my tits and used his meaty cock to put a smile on my face. "I'm your slut, baby, pound me hard."
And he did.
"I can't believe this," he kept saying as he's screwing the hell out of me. I came twice. Once bending over the table and once on my back. "Uhhhhnnnnn, Andy, yes!"
He shot his spunk all over my tits while the sounds of the game drowned out most of our interaction. As if the stadium was cheering his accomplishments.
Amazingly, after pulling up his pants he handed me a wet paper towel like some sort of Sir Fuckalot tending to his freshly fucked fair maiden.
Evan told me later that when he came back to the game Andrew had a grin from ear to ear and his shirt tail hanging out. His compatriots seemed like they could smell sex on him. That was Evan's interpretation anyway.
I went upstairs to change into an actual football jersey a friend had given me, this one oversized on me to the point that it looked like a short dress, coming down just below my crotch. You'd think that the kitchen fuck would have satisfied my craving but there were two more interested cocks on the couch and I wanted them to have me.
When I came down Andrew was sitting in the chair I had been in and the other two were at either end of the couch, leaving room between them. All eyes were on me as I sat down. They had knocked down a few beers by then so decorum was pretty much out the door.
Watching the game with them I absentmindedly began to play with myself. Their bulges were commanded to stand at attention and salute. Then they squirmed here and there, trying their best not to look or, god forbid, say anything.
Phillip kept drinking more beer.
After awhile Evan finally put an end to their torture. Muting the TV, "Boys, pardon the interruption but I'm aware that my wife's exhibitionist antics might be somewhat of a painful distraction. You can't help but want to get into her pants and, as Andrew found out in the kitchen just now, it can be quite pleasurable."
"Thank you dear," I chimed in.
They both looked at Andrew and he smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"I thought something was..." said Phillip.
"What I'm saying is you have my official blessing to fuck my wife. In fact, watching you guys bang Chrissy has got to be better than this miserable game we're losing."
"You mean right now?" said a stunned Phillip.
"If you want her, take her."
There was an initial moment of shock, looking at each other in disbelief, then back to me. To help them along I stood up and pulled off the jersey and delicately slipped off my panties. "Wanna play?" I asked. After one more visual check in with Evan and his nod, Terry and Phillip hastily stripped down.
